


Strange How the Night Moves

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Car Sex, Come Eating, Comeplay, Dirty Talk, Episode: s11e04 Baby, Implied/Referenced Heterosexual Sex, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Scent Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-10-30
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:29:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean talk about Sam's night with Piper. (Deleted scene from 11.04 - Baby.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange How the Night Moves

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Exaggerated_Specificity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Exaggerated_Specificity/gifts).



She still smells like home, after all these years. She smells like the grit under tired boots dirtying up her floorboards, like the motor oil and gasoline that makes up her blood, like those two boys she’s kept safe and not-so secretly cherishes above and beyond all others. 

They’re hers, after all.

Dean nestles down into the front seat, his body too exhausted to be confined to a bench seat as a bed, but he’s endured worse. He can hear Sam stretching out in the back, those long legs looking for a way to make it work. Dean remembers when he was just a tiny thing, just a quiet slip of a child whose legs used to dangle over the edge of the seat, his feet covered in dirty socks and secondhand shoes, those mystery-colored eyes already sad and unfocused on the scenery outside, taking that boy far out of their rambling home and away, away before Dean even really knew it.

But he’s back now.

Dean smiles, still satisfied with the thought of it. He has Sam back. (Back after Stanford, back after that freaky scarecrow, back after the demon virus, back after--)

Sam clears his throat and shifts on the seat, snapping Dean out of his increasingly anxious thoughts.

He’s lost Sam too many times. And he’s never had much luck. It’s bound to run out on this winning streak someday.

“Tell me about her,” he says, in an effort to distract himself from wanting to climb into the back seat with his baby brother and feel his warmth, an indulgence they don’t allow themselves nearly enough.

“About who?” Sam mumbles. He’s tired but not nearly asleep. If he’d really been heading to sleep, he wouldn’t have said anything.

“Piper,” Dean replies with relish. He folds his arms up and behind his head, pillowing it as he stares at the ceiling. 

Sam groans, probably blushing like a teenager back there. It makes Dean grin. 

“Dean, I’m not gonna--”

“Hard for a girl to look good in yellow,” Dean continues, thinking back on the little blonde who reminded him too much of other blondes in their lives for him to mention it. “Little Miss Sunshine.”

“It was her uniform.” It’s a mumbled reply, but not nearly as annoyed as he had been, like maybe he’s settling into having this conversation. Dean lets his eyes fall closed so he can picture her.

“She had a spark to her. Totally not ashamed that I saw her. Didn’t clutch any pearls or hide any modesties. Bet she was fun.” He keeps his voice light just in case Sam’s not into it, but he can’t keep the low grit of lust from scratching on the words, making them dirty even in their seeming innocence. He stretches out even longer on the seat, his shirt riding up a little.

“Took off her panties back at the diner,” Sam finally says, a little aw-shucks and modest, like he doesn’t know he looks like a wolf in puppy dog’s clothing. “Gave ‘em to me with the check.”

 _”Shit,”_ Dean laughs, impressed. “Surprised you didn’t just take her to the bathroom.”

“It’s her family’s diner, so we, uh. That was out. And besides, she…”

More shifting from the backseat. The make or break moment.

“C’mon, Sammy,” Dean coaxes, hips lifting a little, wanton in his lonely front seat. “Gimme some details. Have some pity for an old man.”

“She, uh. She wanted to ride me.”

“Oh, I just bet she did.” Dean growls, low and quiet in his chest, an engine rumble. “Bet she could guess what you were packin’ from the first second she saw you. She appreciates a challenge, huh?”

“Jesus, Dean,” Sam breathes, and there it is. The greenlight. Dean opens his dirty fucking mouth.

“How many fingers did it take to open her up so you’d fit? Did you use lube? Bet you didn’t have to. Bet she was wet enough just looking at you.”

“She did that thing where... “ The quiet clink of a belt coming unbuckled. Dean reaches down to do the same, not wanting to be left behind. “Where she laid my dick flat on my stomach and sat down on it and just rubbed against it. Just hiked up her dress and… she came all over me. Soaked me.”

“Fuck, yeah,” Dean huffs, thumbing open his jeans and pushing the zipper down, going slow, letting Sam hear it. He hears the answering zipper on Sam’s jeans, hears him shift on the vinyl seat and work his pants down. Imagines that he can smell the heat of Sam’s dick already, from all the way up here. “Then you got your fingers up in there, didn’t you, Sammy? Couldn’t help yourself then. Saw how pretty she was when she came and wanted to make her do it again.”

“She took three,” Sam breathes, the air in the car suddenly hot, thick. Dean licks his lips. “Grabbed my hand and pushed ‘em up inside of her, just… just used me. Got ‘em where she wanted ‘em and told me to move. To… to fuck her with ‘em.”

“You make her come?” Dean’s fingers tickle over the hair of his happy trail, slipping down into the soft mess of them around his cock. He pushes past his dick and rubs at his balls, fat and heavy and full. Sam’s gonna help him empty them.

“She came twice just on my hand,” Sam whispers, like it’s a secret. 

“Bet it still smells like her.” Shit. Just the thought. Just the fucking thought--

There’s warmth right in front of Dean’s face, and it’s only then that he realizes he’d had his eyes closed. They snap open again and Sam’s hand is right there, long fingers in front of his face. He lets his eyes slip shut again and groans before taking a deep breath, soaking up the smell of pussy on Sam’s fingers that are ghosting his face. 

He lifts his head, opens his mouth, and lets the first three fingers slide right over his tongue.

“Shit, Dean,” Sam grinds out, shifting again and pushing his fingers deeper while Dean wraps his lips around them and sucks on them hard, tasting Sam’s dirty skin and the tangy flavor of girl. Sam strokes over his tongue, the tips of those long fingers nudging at the back of his throat. Dean gags quietly, knowing Sam can feel it even if he can’t hear it.

Sam takes his fingers back and they both settle in again. Dean licks his lips and swallows the spit that’s gathered in his mouth, drinking down that sweet taste of little brother and pretty blonde. 

He can hear the second Sam starts to jack that big dick of his, can hear the soft, watery-slick sound of it, eased by the spit Sam had gathered from Dean’s mouth.

“Keep talkin’, Sammy,” Dean all but pleads, pulling his own dick out and wrapping a tired hand around it, tuggin’ right in time with his brother’s breaths. It’s almost embarrassing how hard he already is.

“God, she was… she was soaking wet. And she was so tight she couldn’t take me at first, not even when she was baring down with all her weight.” Sam sounds all breathy and sweet like he does when he’s getting fucked or getting his ass licked, and it makes Dean drip slick all over his hiked-up shirt, makes him grip his dick tighter and give the head a quick twist before he goes back down again.

“I coulda made her take you,” Dean whispers, licking his lust-swollen mouth and biting down hard on his bottom lip as he fucks up into his hand. “Woulda got right up behind her and reached around to rub her. Made her relax so you could fit. Dick like that needs to be taken care of right, Sammy.”

“You could’ve fucked me. Wh-While she was riding me.” He sounds like a virgin again, like just the thought is making him hot, like they hadn’t done exactly that before with a girl, with a dozen girls. It makes Dean growl.

“Dragged those long legs up and just slid right in. You take dick better than she does, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Sam sighs, the sound of his hand on his dick speeding up; loud, dripping slaps almost drowning out the rush of Sam’s breath. “Wouldn’t even’ve wanted you to get me ready. Just slide right in and work me open--”

“You come in her, Sammy? Did you fuckin’ load her up?” He’s so close now, his balls drawn up tight and throbbing, his hips pounding up desperate and hard against his hand.

“No, Dean. God, no, that’s…”

“Say it, Sammy.” He just needs to hear it, just needs Sam to say it and he can fucking come.

“I only come inside of you. That’s only for you.”

Dean’s whole body strains up, his boots slipping across the vinyl as he arches up and comes into his trembling but cupped palm, his breath held the whole time as he shakes all over. He finally exhales in a sharp burst that sounds exactly like a sob as he wrings his dick out, feeling the hot pulse of every vein in it against his calloused fingers.

Sam is whimpering, so fucking loud during sex, and the sounds he’s making echo through the car and probably outside of it. He wonders if anyone else can hear them, if anyone could guess exactly what’s going on inside that sleek black beast with the steamed-up windows.

He collapses back down against the seat, completely ruined now, so fucked out just hearing his little brother talk.

“Mm,” he sighs, rubbing at his empty balls, fingers playing at his dry asshole as he comes down, rubbing at the tight wrinkles. His come is still held in his other palm, contained at least and not an absolute mess all over the seat like he’s done before.

Like they’ve done before.

He feels the first drop on his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth in mindless obedience and takes all four of Sam’s fingers as deep as Sam wants to give them to him. The taste of Sam’s spunk floods his senses, obliterating everything else.

He pulls his hand out of his pants and reaches up to wrap it around Sam’s wrist, steadying him so he can lick his hand clean. He laps over his wide palm, over the impressive length of his fingers, beautiful in their grace and their strength, making sure he doesn’t miss a single drop.

Sam rubs at Dean’s mouth when he’s done, strokes over his lips like he’s adoring them, like Dean is worth that kind of worship.

“Still taste so good, little brother,” he murmurs against Sam’s fingertips, bringing his lips together in a kiss there before he lets Sam’s wrist go.

Sam sprawls back out on the seat, and it’s Dean’s turn to get up now. His dick is still hanging out of his pants, limp and wet, but he ignores it in favor of turning in the seat and looking down at his brother.

Sam’s hair is damp and sticking to his forehead in long, dark strands, his face flushed in bright spots of pink on his cheeks and the tip of his nose. His eyes are on Dean in the near-dark, glittering and almost ethereal. He looks so sweet and submissive that Dean aches to be young again, to be able to get it up enough to get between Sam’s long legs and fuck him so good they’d both feel it the whole next day.

He brings his cupped palm over the seat and Sam moans softly at just the sight. He licks his lips and tips his head up, opening his mouth like Dean’s about to give him communion. 

Dean presses the very tips of his fingers to the plush pink of Sam’s bottom lip, his own eyes wide and unblinking in the dark. He lifts his hand up above his mouth and tips his fingers down, letting the come slide down warm and creamy from his hand and into Sam’s mouth.

He feeds his little brother in absolute silence, filling his hungry mouth with drop after drop until it’s all gone, sliding down Sam’s throat. 

“Beautiful boy,” Dean whispers, warm with reverence as Sam licks his hand clean, just as devoted to consuming him as Dean had been of Sam. Sam tugs him closer by the hand, pulling until Dean leans over the seat, the top of it digging into his ribs just as Sam surges up.

“Only because I’m yours,” Sam says, softer than a breath.

Their mouths meet on a sigh, the bittersweet cream on their tongues blending between them to create a whole new flavor. Dean reaches up to push Sam’s hair back off his face, tucking it behind his ears while Sam explores his mouth with the languid lap of his tongue.

They pull away after awhile, Dean’s body protesting the awkward angle and Sam, Dean realizes with a smile and a tightening of his chest, is nearly asleep.

He fixes up Sam’s pants and then his own, crouched there in the seat for probably too long as he watches Sam drift off.

He sighs deep and content as he edges back down and onto his back in the front seat, reaching up to roll the window down to let some cool autumn air into the now overly warm car. He closes his eyes, not even bothering to school the smile pulling at his kiss-warm mouth.

He sleeps the sleep of the most well-loved man in the world, and his smile never fades.

**Author's Note:**

> gimme some love if you liked! :D


End file.
